Leftover
by Zoe Standing Bare
Summary: It’s raining out, and the ground at the cemetery is muddy and squelching under your nice black shoes." Peter feels leftover. Yes, more 2nd Person POV. One shot.


Author's Note: I discovered that I love writing in 2nd Person POV. I love this piece, although it made me cry writing it…

Disclaimer: I just cry.

You remember once, when you were little and your parents had just gotten a divorce, sitting on the sofa watching TV and hearing your mother crying in the other room. She was probably on the phone with your Nana, but you can't remember that much. What you remember is her saying she felt left behind. You didn't understand what she meant by it, but you remember that so clearly, despite your favorite episode of Power Rangers playing.

Now you know what she meant, how she felt. She had been left by your father, the man she had once loved. She probably still loved him at that point, even though he obviously didn't feel the same way. Your feeling of being left behind is much different, but it's the same concept, and you wish you didn't have that memory. It just makes your heart break all over again.

It's raining out, and the ground at the cemetery is muddy and squelching under your nice black shoes. They're a little too tight, because you haven't worn them in a year or so, but they were all you had. Everyone has an umbrella…except for you. You left yours at home, because you were so hoping that the rain would be able to wash away your sins.

You don't feel like that's happening, but the water still feels good on your hair and skin, and besides, it masks the tears that are streaming down your face. As if everyone didn't think you were doing bad before. Your mother looks at you sadly, and although you'd like to think it's because she feels bad about _your_ loss, you know it's probably because you're ruining your nice suit by wearing it in the rain.

The burial takes too long. Not because of the rain, but because you just want it to be over with. You hate knowing that your Jason is in that small wooden box with the nice cushion that he doesn't need because he's gone now. There was no viewing, Nadia didn't want there to be and her parents didn't really care enough to argue it.

The priest says a couple of prayers, something about sending Jason off, but you don't really hear or understand anything coming out of his mouth. The hardest part is that you can feel Jason beside you, his warmth, his breath…and it makes you cry harder, your shoulders shaking in silent sobs. You want him back for real, holding your hand or hugging you close.

But you don't have him anymore, and you never will again. Jason is gone forever now, and it's all your fault. The rain isn't washing away your sin of killing the love of your life. It's not washing away the sin of what you did with said love. It's not working, and you can feel the _sin_ coursing through your body, you can feel it in every molecule, every atom.

By the time the graveside service is over, almost everyone is crying. Nadia and Ivy have their arms around each other, crying into each other's shoulder. That wouldn't have ever happened before. Even Mrs. McConnell is crying. You're not sure whether that would have happened or not, but you think it probably wouldn't. Sister Chantelle is dabbing at her eyes with a handkerchief, even your mom brought a bunch of tissues. No one can get over this fact…_he was so young_.

Jason was young. In age, even in mentality at times. He was so scared, scared of himself, scared of what could happen if anyone knew about you and him, scared of the future and scared of the mess he had gotten himself in to. Deep inside the Jason that you loved so much was a scared little boy.

People are starting to walk away, but you stay for a moment, studying the tombstone at the head of the grave. You take the red rose you've been holding, slightly wilted from the rain, and drop it into the hole in the ground where Jason is now resting in his coffin. You watch it fall, almost in slow motion, and bite your lip as it hits the bottom. With a sad sigh, you turn back around and follow your mom to the car.

Your mom puts a towel on the front seat so you don't get it _too_ wet and you climb into the car. The drive is silent for awhile until your mom asks if your okay. You manage a shrug and a soft "sure". But you both know that's not true at all. She sighs softly and reaches over to take your hand.

The rain didn't wash away your sins. You can tell. And as the car pulls into the parking lot of the restaurant where the reception is being held, you feel so nauseas that you want to ask your mom to turn around and take you somewhere far, far away. But that's not how it works. You reach into the back seat to grab your bag with dry clothing and run inside, changing into the nice shirt and slacks that you packed.

When you come out of the bathroom, people are talking softly to each other. You find your group of school friends in a corner, picking at plates of cheese and fruit that you don't even want to attempt to stomach. Ivy comes over to you and puts her arms around you in a giant hug. You hug her back, wishing you could hate her for what she did but just not able to. She's suffering too. Everyone is.

Matt looks at you sadly as Ivy lets go. You want to tell him it's not his fault. You want to tell all your friends that it's not their fault, because they're surely all blaming themselves. You realize that you're doing the same thing, really, but you feel it's more your fault than anyone else's. There was so much you could have done to stop him…you actually had an idea of what was going on. No one else did.

You observe the group as they speak softly to each other. No one hates you like they should. No one hates your sins, no one hates who you are. They all care about you, and you know it's not just because of Jason. You know it's because of who you are, every piece of who you are. They're not judging you for who you love like most of the other people in the room are.

Because most of the other people in the room know. Mr. and Mrs. McConnell had overheard you and Nadia talking, and had confronted you earlier, reprimanding you for your life of sin and how you sucked their son into it. Now Jason's family and their friends are avoiding you like the plague, or sending you nasty glares over their glasses of wine and those damned plates of cheese and fruit.

You wish you could tell them that you hoped the rain would wash away your sins, and that you tried to make it, but it didn't work. But you can't open your mouth without fear of vomiting. Nadia softly asks if you're okay and you shake your head, so she grabs your hand and pulls you outside.

It's still raining, but it's dry under the awning on the porch. It's not cold, after all, it's nearly June, but it's still rather unpleasant. You wish Jason didn't have to be sent off in the rain, it should be sunny and beautiful out. But then you realize it always rains at funerals…at least, that's how it feels.

The two of you stand outside for a couple minutes, inhaling the thick air slowly. Nadia turns to you and looks at you for a moment before pulling you into a hug. Unable to help yourself, the tears start falling again and your chest is heaving with sobs. Neither of you have to say anything, because you're crying and you can feel the tears from Nadia's eyes dripping onto your hair.

You hold each other for what feels like an eternity before you hear the door open. You look up at see the rest of your friends standing there, their plates of cheese and fruit now discarded. Ivy and Matt and Lucas and Tanya are looking at you and Nadia as you cry. Ivy and Tanya are crying as well, and Ivy walks over, rubbing your back calmingly. Lucas does the same for Nadia.

And before you know it, the whole group of you are holding each other, crying and uniting under the same feeling. You've all lost someone special to you, but the way you're being treated shows you that they know you're suffering the most. You don't really like being treated like this, because you want to let them all know that Jason cared about them too, but none of them knew the _real_ Jason like you did.

Ivy takes your hand and squeezes it, but you won't let go of Nadia. If anyone other than you is hurting the most, it's her. She lost her twin, the person she had been with since birth. You know even you can't compete with that. You can't imagine the pain she's feeling from losing Jason and the fact that he wasn't being honest with her for the whole time.

The group of you just stand there, hugging and crying. And you realize that Jason's not there…but you can still feel him beside you…his warmth, his breath. He'll always be there with you, and you know that much. You whisper this to Nadia so that only she can hear.

Nadia looks at you and nods.

She whispers back in your ear…_I know_.


End file.
